A Short Fuse
by ASongInMyHead
Summary: Post-Hunger. All Quinn wants to do is provide her comfort, but Lana might be too far gone for that.


**A Short Fuse**

Lana was on the balcony smoking a cigarette when someone knocked on her door at Clifftop. Patrick immediately started to bark and ran towards the door. Lana rolled her eyes as she flicked the cigarette off the balcony ledge. No doubt it was someone whining about an injury. Kids no longer came to her for help with loose teeth or scraped knees. No, they were much to scared of her to approach her with such mundane boo-boos lately. Only those with broken bones, deep cuts or burns dared approach her hotel room. But she still made sure that her gun was on the coffee table, just in case. So, naturally, she was surprised to see Quinn's face, distorted as it was by the peephole in the door. Lana almost smiled. Almost.

She had to hold Patrick's collar as he excitedly jumped around when she unlocked the door for Quinn. The dog collar wasn't necessary in the same way that it had been before the FAYZ. It wasn't in case Patrick ran away or get lost. It was so the kids in town would recognize him as the Healer's dog and wouldn't eat him.

"Hey," said Quinn as he stepped in the door, squeezing past Patrick and sitting in a chair.

"Hey," replied Lana, sitting near him. "I didn't know that you were coming by."

"Well, I told you that I'd back, didn't I?" Quinn grinned.

Lana nodded in response. Quinn _had _said that he would come back when he visited her last week, but Lana hadn't wanted to get her hopes up. She saw his eyes linger on the gun for a moment, with an almost nervous expression on his face, before turning back to her.

"Do you want some water?" she asked, forcing herself to remember how to be polite.

"Sure."

Lana walked to the little kitchenette, getting two tall glasses of water. She chugged one, putting the empty glass in the sink with the other dirty dishes, and brought the other one to Quinn. After he took the glass she sat back down.

"So," Quinn said, after drinking some of his water. "What have you been up to in the past few days?"

"Reading, mostly," said Lana gesturing to the shelves filled with the books that she had collected. "I'm trying to read my way down the shelves. I just finished _The Time Traveler's Wife_."

"Was it good?"

"It was alright," Lana responded, getting up from her chair and walking back to the balcony. "Kind of sappy for my taste, but I guess it was a good escape."

Quinn picked up his half-empty water glass and followed her out to the balcony. "Escape from what?" he asked, leaning against the ledge.

"You know, _this_," Lana said, waving her arms vaguely. "This," she repeated; now gesturing at her head.

Quinn looked out at the beach below them. "I'm really sorry about everything, Lana."

"Sorry about what? You didn't do anything."

"Yes, but I'm sorry about everything that's happened to you," Quinn was now staring intently at her. "It's not fair."

Lana thought about the word _fair_. Nothing was fair in the FAYZ. She had all but forgotten the concept of _fair_. Of justice. Of happiness. Which was why she was so shocked when Quinn suddenly kissed her. At first her mind blanked out, until she realized what was happening. Then she simply went with it, and they kissed for a while. Their kiss went on until Quinn tried to put his arm around her waist, dropping the water glass on the deck of the balcony. It broke into a million tiny shards, as did what was left of Lana's sanity.

Lana was back in the hotel room and by the coffee table in a matter of seconds. She picked up the gun from the coffee table, cocked the trigger and pointed at Quinn, who still stood on the balcony, stunned.

"Lana, what the hell?" he walked towards her, his hands above his head.

Lana shook all over, and was her face bright red. "Quinn, if you don't leave in ten seconds, I will shoot you in the face."

"Lana, I-"

"One… Two…"

"Christ," Quinn ran towards the door.

"Three…Four…Five… Six…" Lana followed him, keeping the gun level with his head.

Quinn stopped as he turned the doorknob and ran his hand through his hair, trying to conceal that he was shaking as well. "Lana, you need help. Let me- or someone, anyone- help you. Please."

"Seven... Eight…"

Quinn left the hotel room, slamming the door behind him. Lana listened to his footsteps as he ran down the hall, making sure that he was really gone. She put the gun back on the coffee table. Patrick, who had cowered under the bed when Lana had started to shout, went over to comfort his master.

"You're a good boy, Patrick. A good, good boy." Lana lay down on the floor, picturing over and over again the glass as it fell, the glass as it smashed. She pictured her mind as one of those laser motion-detectors from all those action movies. The bad guys would set them up and the heroes would have to carefully weave their way around them One wrong move and hell would break loose. One smashed glass and all hell _did _break lose.

Lana lay there until she fell asleep. Her dreams were filled of dark caverns, blood, monsters made of darkness and the friendly boy with soft, sweet lips who she had chased away, just like she had chased away everything else.


End file.
